Today was the most beautiful in a while. Before getting half a blok away from the building, I knew that I was going for a bike ride. I walked home, skimmed over my homework, drank a glass of milk, and headed out back. Opening our shed, I saw a familliar sight, my bike in the middle, with helmet resting on the seat. I pulled it out of the shed, and hopped on. I haven't ridden my bike in a month or two, so it took a little getting used to again, but as the adage goes, once you ride a bike, you never forget. And what a beautiful day it was. I just took the streets northward, but it didn't really matter which direction really, as long as I went. Biking around without any destination. I breathed in the fresh air, embraced the sun's warmth, and loved my bike. It may not look like much, but to me it's everything. On it, I can get away from it all, even if I'm still on familliar streets. While riding, I passed by a young boy inside a fenced-in playground, 2 or 3, in preeschool, looking out through the chain link fence, and one coud tell that he wanted the freedom I had, and that's what my bike is to me.
Song of the Day: Roger and Out, Niel Young, off of Living with War